


Sleep is Better, But...

by hazzahandsome



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Babies, Family Fluff, M/M, Short and Useless Fluffy Fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:58:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazzahandsome/pseuds/hazzahandsome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d prefer to sleep. But it was fine. Harry closed his eyes, leant his head back against the cushions, and continued to calmly hush her. He let his leg bounce her body softly and kissed at her hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep is Better, But...

Harry _knew_ it was his turn, but that didn’t stop him from shoving his face deeper into the pillow and hoping that it would just stop. The crying. He knew it wouldn’t, though, and he knew he should wake up as quickly as possible. But, it was three in the morning. He’d checked.

If he really thought about it, it was _always_ his turn. He was the one who (technically) roused easily at sudden sounds. But, that didn’t mean that he necessarily wanted to. With a small sigh, Harry pulled his head up and ignored the inevitable fabric lines that were probably indented in his skin. He spared a moment to look over his shoulder at Zayn, who hadn’t moved a single muscle. Perfectly content and comfortable underneath the covers - and one arm draped lazily over Harry’s side. He smiled, despite himself, and carefully moved it so that he could pull himself from the bed and stand tall. He accidently knocked the monitor over, during a stretch of his back. He wasn’t sure how, exactly.

Harry moved through the dark towards the bedroom door, pulled it open, and started the familiar trek down the hallway. He could do it in his sleep, and often did. He was pretty much doing it now. Harry turned to the correct door, three down from the upstairs bathroom, and pushed it open. “You’re okay, Ella," he hummed right away, without turning on the light. There was no need to blind himself in the process. He strode across the room - feet dragging against the carpet - and over to the crib where the crying was coming from. “You’re alright." The second she spotted him appearing in the dark room, her wails grew louder and she reached two stubby arms up in his direction. “You’re fine, little bear," he stuck his hands underneath her arms and tugged up. Tiny hands immediately made to wrap around his neck, while Harry tried to adjust her bum to rest in his arms and use his other hand to scrub the sleep out of his eyes, at the same time. “It’s three in the morning, Ella Bear. Your daddies are trying to sleep."

She ignored his voice and pushed her head into the crook of Harry’s neck. The sounds were muffled somewhat, but the tears fell against the bare of his neck. “What’s the matter, huh?" he rubbed soothingly at her back. She wouldn’t answer - _couldn’t_ answer. He and Zayn had gotten her to say a few small words here and there (and he’d been bitter for a few seconds that she’d said Niall’s name before anything else), but Ella hadn’t gotten around to sentences of any sort. She was too young to be talking, really.

"Da Daaaa!" Ella cried harder, and Harry grinned sleepily at the tiny fingers tugging at the hair covering his ears.

"Do you want your Daddy?" he laughed quietly to himself. “Am I not good enough?" Harry had had a theory that he’d shared the other day in the studio, that Ella wanted quality “Ella and Daddy Zayn" time late at night, instead of any other part of the day. And that _that_ was why she seemed to be crying for no reason. But Zayn had scoffed that Harry was being the actual baby and Louis had laughed that he should ‘suck it up’.

Harry loved Ella more than anything. He couldn’t even describe how he felt when they had picked her up from the adoption agency - she had been so small. Everyday, he was quick to love her and pick her up and twirl her around and let her take a marker to his skin to add another one of “dat!". One of her ‘creations’ (which was really just a squiggly mess) he’d gotten permanently etched onto his skin. It was he and Zayn - all day, everyday, taking care of her. Night was different. A _wrecking ball_ couldn’t pull Zayn from his sleep, but Ella wouldn’t stop _crying_. So, Harry would begrudgingly tear his eyes open. And he’d stay up as long as he needed to, to hold her. And he’d go into the studio with the rest of the boys the next morning (Ella locked on Zayn’s hip) and let them make fun of the dark bags under his eyes. He’d prefer to sleep, but it was fine. Although, Liam should know exactly how he feels - since he’d gone through this baby stage before.

"We should _sleep_ , Ella Bear," he let his head tilt down and rest against her soft black locks. " _Hmm_? What do you say?" His throat felt scratchy with sleep, and her hands weren’t helping his bed head. But, her blubbering hadn’t stopped, so he didn’t put her down. Instead, he manuvered himself across the carpet - stepping on a stuffed animal along the way - and towards the purple chair he’d had to convince Zayn that they should buy. The boy had said it was going to look like they murdered and stuffed Barney and thrown him in the nursery, but Harry had disagreed… It turned out Zayn was _right_ , but he still thought it was really cool. “We’re going into the studio tomorrow morning," Harry carefully lowered them down to sit - and she clutched him tighter during the process. “You love that. Big Brother Niall will be there. You’re _in love_ with him, aren’t you? That should make you happy," Ella cried on and Harry attempted to stifle his yawns. “And of course, Uncle _Louis_ and _Grandpa_ _Liam_. Uncle Louis will probably help you doing something bad, like pull out important cords… I know you’ll smile then."

Harry closed his eyes, leant his head back against the cushions, and continued to calmly hush her. He let his leg bounce her body softly and kissed at her hair. After a sum of minutes, wails turned into more subtle sniffles. “Are you excited to see Grandma Anne?" he whispered into the growing quiet - his mind having wondered to a coming gathering back home. Ella was falling asleep and so was he - his chest rising and falling slowly. “She’s missed you… you’re _very_ miss-able, so we can’t blame her. Can we?"

"We definitely can’t," a hollowed voice suddenly startled him. Harry did his best not to physically move, as he turned his head to smile fondly at Zayn - who was standing comfy in nothing but a pair of sweats. Harry watched him run his hands through his hair, making it stick up further than it already was. His eyes were droopy and it was clear he didn’t want to be awake, either. But, he walked forward and knelt down next to the chair. “‘Cause you’re the prettiest thing, aren’t ya?" Ella had already fallen asleep (which was a gift to Harry’s ears), so Zayn reached out to pull her from Harry’s arms. He rocked her for awhile, before turning to face Harry. “I woke sometime during the story of you buying a pack of gum, last week," he hummed quietly and shook his head. " _Riveting_ story, babe."

“ _Heyy_ , it is a good story. There was that bird on the walk… you _know_ the one… the fat one with the stump leg."

"What are you even _talking_ about?" but Zayn was laughing lowly, so that he didn’t wake her back up. “She’s going to grow up with your sense of humor, and it’s going to be a damn shame."

Harry dragged his weight off the chair and scratched at his wrist. “The fat bird’s name is _Pete_. And Pete has _feelings_." He watched Zayn brush his lips against Ella’s cheek and walk over to the side of the crib. He set her inside and tucked the blankets around her sides so that she wouldn’t roll during the rest of the night. “And you lo-" Harry began to continue, but a yawn cut of his sentence - and he crossed both arms in front of his face to cover his mouth.

"Yes, I _do_ love," Zayn spun around and blinked tiredly. “Back to bed, now."

Harry dropped his arms once the yawn subsided and reached out to hold onto Zayn’s fingertips. “Night, Ella Bear," he whispered and followed Zayn out the door, with his chin rested on Zayn’s shoulders. His closeness made the boy in front stumble a little in the dark, because Harry accidently stepped at his heels a few times. But, eventually they were both through their own bedroom door and he was being pulled back down to their own bed. Zayn crawled into his spot and snuggled up to Harry’s back, once he settled himself under the blankets. Harry sighed, as Zayn returned his arm around his waist, pressed his lips into the space between his shoulder blades, and muttered ‘Goodnight’.

Harry glanced over to the alarm clock shining in the dark. It was going on four thirty in the morning. They’d have to wake back up in three hours. The other boys would make fun of the bags under his eyes. Louis would tell him to suck it up. And Harry would smile down at Ella playing on the floor with Zayn and his own writing pad.

So, it was fine.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this two months ago, when the pictures of Harry and Lux at the pool, first came out... Those pictures killed me.


End file.
